


First Do No Harm

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First, do no harm is Raphael's motto, but it seems as if he's done nothing but.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Do No Harm

First, do no harm. That is his motto, his promise, his _prayer,_ to himself, to his Father – who is coming back someday soon no matter what Michael says – to all of Heaven. First, do no harm. First, and second, and third, and all the way down the line to last, because he’d sooner die than harm any of his brothers, he’d rather be cast into Hell for the rest of time than hurt any of his Father’s perfect creations, because he heals – that’s what he does, that’s what he _lives_ for; it’s his purpose, his name, his _raison d’être_ , his _everything._

 

First, do no harm. That’s what he tells himself, as Michael raises army after army. First, do no harm, because it’s better, he thinks, to do nothing at all than to make a pitiful attempt at restoring peace to Heaven. He’s no match for Michael, and he knows it; anything he tried would just make an already critical situation worse. First, do no harm – that’s how he justifies standing by, at the sidelines, safe and comfortable, while his brothers fall, while Heaven falls. First, do no harm – those are the words Raphael uses to sugar-coat his cowardice each and every day.

 

(Sometimes, in the dark, in the valley, in the rich, crepuscular depths of space where Michael has no desire to go, he admits to himself, very quietly so the rest of him won’t hear, that his silence has done nothing _but_ harm. He tries not to think of that, though, in the light, in the garden, in the fields of Heaven discussing ‘strategy’ with Michael, calm and collected like they’re not talking about sending a hundred of their brothers to their deaths, because action would mean war, and he’s a healer, not a solider. And action, he knows, would mean stopping Michael by whatever means necessary, and he can’t. He _can’t._ They’re the only two left, and he will not be the last of his kind, he will not. He cannot.)

 

It is with that thought – that confession, that plea – lingering bitter and festering at the back of his mind that he decides upon a course of action. First, do no harm. Second, do nothing at all.

 

So he watches as angel after angel falls – first, do no harm is such a _laughable_ sentiment as the Earth below grows blackened with the ashes of his brother’s wings. He watches as Lucifer rises – first, do no harm seems even more ridiculous as Michael’s light grows dimmer and dimmer while some white-hot angry voice inside of him screams, _you should have stopped this; Heaven is as good as fallen, and you could have stopped this!_

 

It’s only when he feels Gabriel’s death searing through him, barbed and molten and sprinkled with Michael’s _no, please, no, fix him, Raphael, bring him back, please_ that he sees it, sees the future in all its monstrosity – Lucifer, falling, Michael, jumping, the ground closing up all around them.

 

He flies away without answering – he’s going to fix this, fix all of this, and he’s going to start by bringing Gabriel back, and Michael will be so filled with joy that he’ll call off the war; it’ll work, because it has to – but he’s too late. Death is there, cradling the broken body of his brother, and Raphael doesn’t hesitate before speaking – _take me too._

 

And Death says unto him, _primum, non nocere,_ and Raphael crumples onto the floor and _weeps_ for all that he has lost and everything he has yet to lose.

 

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t move when he feels Lucifer stride up to him, Grace a blackened stain on the reality all around them. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t try to get away when he feels a tiny metallic pinprick pushing up against his back, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t cry out when it drives itself deeper. And if the last words that fall from his lips are a broken _thank you_ as the world goes dark, let it be known that he did no harm.


End file.
